


Screwed Up Ain’t A Bad Place To Be

by Spikedluv



Category: Dark Blue
Genre: Episode Tag, Established Relationship, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-02
Updated: 2011-02-02
Packaged: 2017-10-15 07:44:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/158608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spikedluv/pseuds/Spikedluv
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean interrupts Carter’s wallow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Screwed Up Ain’t A Bad Place To Be

**Author's Note:**

> Tag for 1.05 August. I couldn’t wait any longer for someone else to write the first Carter/Dean fic, so I did it myself. Plus, the bunny, it was huge. And rabid. With very big teeth. *g*
> 
> Written: August 15, 2009

Carter was staring into the bottom of his second glass of whiskey when Dean showed up.

“What are you doing here?” Carter asked, his voice a dry rasp from the alcohol, and from emotion he’d allowed himself to wallow in.

Instead of answering the question, Dean settled one hip on the desk, then leaned forward and took the glass from Carter’s unresisting fingers. He finished the last sip, made an appreciative sound, then set the empty glass on the blotter. Dean picked up the bottle and checked the label. He gave an impressed whistle.

“Nice. What’s the occasion?”

He splashed liquid into the glass, the stream coming dangerously close to the lip of the glass as Dean’s hand shook a little when Carter said, “It’s my birthday.”

“Oh.”

Carter wondered if that realization meant that Dean would leave him alone, but Dean capped the bottle, then lifted the glass to his lips for another sip. As much as Carter had wanted (still wanted) to be alone, he couldn’t help watching the way Dean’s fingers held the glass, the swipe of his tongue over his lips after he’d taken a sip.

Dean set the glass beside the bottle, then slid off the desk and straddled Carter’s legs, sat on them. “How about a birthday kiss?”

“Dean.” Carter turned his face so that Dean’s lips brushed the stubble on his cheeks.

Undeterred, Dean slid his hands up the back of Carter’s skull, tangled his fingers in Carter’s hair, and tugged his head back. He bit Carter’s bottom lip hard, then soothed it with his tongue before slipping it between Carter’s lip.

For a moment, Carter forgot his annoyance that Dean had interrupted his pity party. He moaned and kissed Dean back, both hands coming up to grip Dean’s ass and pull him closer. Dean wiggled in his lap, grinding down, and Carter pushed up to meet him.

The kiss ended when the need to breathe overwhelmed even their growing arousal. They were both hard, panting for breath. Dean’s lips were wet and swollen. Carter licked his own and tasted Dean on them. Dean’s eyes darted to Carter’s lips, his gaze following Carter’s tongue.

Before Dean could lean in for another kiss, though, Carter said, “I figured you’d be with Jaimie tonight.”

Something -- surprise? -- flickered in Dean’s eyes, and then it was gone and the cocky arrogance was back. “You jealous?”

“I don’t get jealous,” Carter replied, the annoyance at being interrupted returning. “I just don’t want you to do anything that’ll screw up the team.”

Dean laughed. “Right, ‘cause this ain’t screwed up,” he said, lifting a hand from the back of Carter’s head to make a gesture that encompassed their current position.

It was, Carter knew. He was screwed up, but sometimes he thought Dean was even more screwed up than he was. And this? This was definitely screwed up. Didn’t stop either of them from coming back for more, though.

“She’s back with her boyfriend,” Dean said, shrugging it off. He gave Carter a cheeky grin. “She just wanted to take a walk on the wild side.”

Carter scoffed. “Because you’re so irresistible.”

Dean shrugged, his grin not dimming a watt. “You think so.”

“I think you’re a pain in the ass,” Carter said, though he didn’t push Dean away, and may have even tightened his arms around Dean’s back.

“One doesn’t cancel out the other.” Dean shifted on Carter’s lap, his erection sliding along Carter’s, making his breath catch in his throat. “You sure you don’t want to celebrate?” Dean breathed against his lips.

Carter removed his hand from Dean’s ass, made a gesture behind Dean’s back (that Dean wouldn’t be able to see) towards the bottle. “I was making a good start on trying to forget it,” he said, not at all sure whether he wanted Dean to try and convince him otherwise.

“That works, too,” Dean said, and kissed Carter again.

Turns out Carter didn’t need all that much convincing.

He opened to Dean’s tongue and let his hand fall onto Dean’s back. He kept one hand tight on Dean’s ass, holding him close, and skipped the other up Dean’s back, fingers touching down lightly at his lower back, his ribs, his shoulder, until they landed on Dean’s neck.

Carter pressed his fingers into Dean’s throat, leaving imprints on his skin, and Dean moaned into Carter’s mouth as his hips moved faster. Dean held Carter’s head and ground down against him, and, Jesus, it was fucking amazing, but even so Carter had enough brain cells left to know that he didn’t want to come in his pants.

He pushed at Dean, who fought him. Finally Carter freed his mouth enough to say, “Bed, Dean.”

“Oh, okay,” Dean mumbled, then kissed him again before sliding off his lap and tugging at his hand.

Carter let Dean pull him out of the chair, then followed him to the sofa, where Dean was already throwing cushions aside and kicking the coffee table out of the way. Carter had spent the night at their office more than once, but he rarely bothered to pull out the sofa bed.

There were even sheets on it, and everything, Carter thought, just before Dean fell on the thin mattress and dragged Carter down with him. The first time was fast, and rough, and messy.

And good. God, it was good.

They’d only managed to get halfway out of their clothes, when Dean’s mouth latched onto one of Carter’s nipples, and Dean’s hand shoved it’s way into Carter’s pants and jacked him. Carter lost track of what he was doing for a minute, but then he dragged Dean up and kissed him, biting his lips and sucking on his tongue as he worked his own hand into Dean’s jeans.

Dean fucked Carter’s hand and made sounds that Carter hadn’t even realized he’d missed hearing, and then he moaned in Carter’s mouth and spilled out all over them both. The familiar sounds and smells, the way Dean bucked against him and pulsed in his hand, how, even when he was coming, Dean still managed to twist his hand just right . . . .

Carter held onto Dean and rode it out, adding his come to the mess already covering them. So much for moving things from the chair to the bed so he didn’t ruin his pants.

“We should probably get these clothes off,” Dean muttered, and Carter laughed.

“Little late now,” he said.

“You going anywhere?”

Carter shook his head. He had nowhere he wanted to be, except, oddly enough, right there with Dean.

Dean smiled. “Then let’s get out of these clothes.”

This time they managed to get all the way undressed, mainly because they’d just taken the edge off, though Carter could still feel the need still skimming beneath his skin.

When he’d shimmied out of his boxer briefs, Dean climbed back onto the sofa bed. He knelt over Carter on all fours, hands braced on the mattress beside his head, and kissed him, then kissed a trail down his body until he reached Carter’s cock.

Dean licked him, then gave the head a little suck before moving down to his balls. Carter tried to bite back the moan as he bent his knees and spread them, opening himself up to Dean. Dean licked and sucked his balls, then licked behind them, then even further back.

This time, Carter couldn’t hold back the moan.

“I know you love this,” Dean said, and Carter shivered, as much from the words as the warm tickle of breath across his asshole.

Carter had never let anyone do this to him besides Dean. He didn’t even know why he’d let Dean do it that first time, but now he couldn’t get enough of it, of Dean’s tongue on him, pressing and wiggling inside him.

“Fuck!” Carter finally exploded as Dean ate his ass.

Carter pulled his knees back, spreading them wider, opening himself up even more, and stopped trying to remain silent. The more noise he made, the harder Dean went at him, so it was a win win situation, really. As long as he didn’t think about how much like a slut he sounded.

Dean sat back on his heels and wiped his hand across his mouth and chin. He winked at Carter and said, “I’m just really good at what I do.”

Carter glared at Dean, mortified that he’d actually said any of that out loud, and let his legs down.

Dean ignored the glare and found lube and a condom in the end table drawer, where they’d left them the last time they’d done this. Carter wondered if Dean had ever used their stash with Jaimie, but then a finger circled his hole and pressed inside, and Carter forgot whatever it was he’d been thinking about.

Dean pushed in with two fingers before Carter was quite ready for it, and the burn as Carter opened up around Dean’s fingers was amazing. God, he’d missed that! Carter dug his heels into the mattress and forced himself down onto Dean’s fingers.

“Need it a little rough?” Dean said, withdrawing his fingers and quickly rolling on the condom.

Carter didn’t bother to answer, just drew his legs back in invitation and waited while Dean lubed up the condom and got into position.

Dean pressed against him, then in, and Carter moaned as he stretched around him. The pain was sharp, and then it was gone as Dean slid all the way inside him. Dean pulled out slow, then pushed back in equally as slow. Then again.

Carter wanted to tell him to get the fuck on with it, but Dean anticipated him, and on the next thrust, drove deep inside him. On the subsequent, Dean changed the angle just enough so his cock brushed Carter’s prostate.

Carter’s back arched and he made a sound that he hoped he’d be able to put out of his mind by morning. It wasn’t as if he’d forgotten how damned good this felt, but it still surprised him every single time they did it.

Carter reached for Dean and dragged him down for a kiss. Dean was breathing hard from the effort, and the sound of it so close to his face turned Carter on even more.

“I thought you were going to fuck me,” Carter ground out.

Dean looked surprised, then in turns, annoyed and amused. “Fuck you, Carter,” Dean said, but he sped up his thrusts.

“That’s what I’m . . . trying . . . .”

Carter stopped talking. He was afraid that if he opened his mouth, he’d say things like _please_ and _more_ , and then he’d never live it down. Not that he hadn’t reduced Dean to begging for it before, but it was the principle of the thing. He was the boss, he wasn’t supposed to show weakness, even in this. He wasn’t supposed to . . . .

“Oh, god, yeah, right there,” Carter moaned when Dean found the angle that had him pounding Carter’s sweet spot each time he drove into him.

Dean hooked an arm underneath Carter’s leg and pushed it back, opened him up even wider, and on the next thrust, slammed in even deeper.

Carter groaned, “Jesus, fuck, do that again.”

“Only if you ask me real nice,” Dean said.

After Carter told Dean to go fuck himself, and Dean said he’d rather be fucking Carter, thank you very much, Carter broke down and begged. Just a little bit, but it was enough to get him what he needed, and he could still pretend in the morning that he’d stood firm.

If he didn’t have to look into Dean’s smug face, which would put the lie to Carter’s memory of events without him even having to speak a word.

Carter slid his hands down Dean’s sweat slicked back, dug his nails in when he felt the pressure building in his balls.

When it finally happened, it felt like time stopped, as if he came forever and never came at all, and then he came crashing down. Sound and sensation came rushing back in, and Carter felt as if he’d been taken apart and put back together, but everything was just a little bit off center.

“Oh my god,” Carter moaned as he clutched Dean to him while Dean shook through his own orgasm.

“Good, huh?” Dean said as he trembled above Carter. “Best you’ve ever had.”

Carter shrugged. “It was all right.”

“All right, my ass,” Dean said, and then at the same time Carter said, “No, I think that was my ass,” Dean said, “Or rather, your ass.”

Chuckling, Dean pulled out of him. Carter felt simultaneously relieved and empty. Dean discarded the condom and then flopped back down beside Carter.

They didn’t engage in post-coital cuddling, it was just that they both had to get their breath back, their strength, and if they did it lying next to each other, where was the harm in that?

Dean rolled so that he was snugged up against Carter, his head resting on Carter’s shoulder. He swirled his finger through the come drying on Carter’s belly. “If you weren’t jealous,” Dean said, “then you must have just missed me.”

“Mmm,” Carter said, rolling his eyes, but he didn’t bother to deny it.

The End


End file.
